


Wayfarers: Sweet Poetry

by Justanothershortstory_sofar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Mighty Nein - Freeform, F/M, I was a pretentious fuck while writing this so we'll see how well this goes, Mermaids, Siren, thanks for the inspiration gayshitiguess this has been in my head for months
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-13 04:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothershortstory_sofar/pseuds/Justanothershortstory_sofar
Summary: It's a tale told many times before, one of love, loss, the sea.  Jester of Lavorre goes to seek her fortune on the high seas.  She finds a little more than just a possibility.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gayshitiguess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayshitiguess/gifts).



> So like 2 months ago, @gayshitiguess on Tumblr posted amazing art of merman Fjord and sailor Jester.  
> Thus began this very long process of me writing. It is now actually ready for people, so here we go- updating every Sunday!

Prologue:  The King and the Bard

 

“Bring forth the troublemaker, the storyteller stirring trouble in my streets.”  Spake the King, voice booming through the hall. A feast, laid on tables covered with silks, stands for a handful of nobles alone as the gates are rattled by indigent workers.  

The bard is brought before the king, iron clicking on his wrists and ankles.  

“You?”  The king laughs at the gaunt figure before him.  “What trouble could you be causing in my city? What could a weak man like you do?”

“My King,”  His voice, sweet like honey, rich like milk, spills through the room.  He pulls a green hood away from his plain, worn face. It is clear to most in the room that this is a troubadour of notable expertise.  “I am a simple bard, a traveler. I only come through your dominion to earn a few coins, sing a few songs, and tell my tales.”

“Pray tell, what do you sing, bard?”  The king sips his wine.

“True love, my king,  I sing a tale of true love.  One that, I swear upon my life, will bring you pleasure to the ear and love to the heart, whose words will withstand the test of time.”  

“Let him show his talents,”  The queen, seated at the left of the king, speaks softly.  “A story of true love sounds most welcome now.”

“Very well.  Tell your story, traveler. Perhaps you can win your freedom if your words are as sweet as you claim.”  

  
  
  


Part One:  The Call

_I speak the truth.  Trust that the words from my mouth tell of the world as it was, greater and more truthful than those of other bards of all time._

_Ages ago, our tale starts with a single woman.  Holy was she, a cleric to a nearly-completely forgotten god._

_Jester of Lavorre was her name, of Nicodranus of the Menagerie Coast, Daughter of the Legendary Ruby of the Sea, who thousands of poems were written for.  They were women of striking beauty, the Ruby and her daughter- the Ruby a tall figure with deep red skin and curling maroon horns, her eyes like a wine-dark sea.  Her daughter was no less breathtaking, though still young- a fair maiden of skin like the clearest, deepest skies, shining like a Sapphire inlaid in a platinum band, only fit to be worn by the most wondrous of ladies._

_At the age of twenty, she set sail to find her fortune…_

_“A female hero?”  The king scoffs. “Bard, what tales do you weave?”_

_A true one, my King.  A true one._

 

        “Mama, where should I go?”

        “Anywhere not here, my Sapphire.”  Her mother presses a kiss to her forehead, tucking a lock of blue hair behind Jester’s pointed ear.  “It’s no longer safe for you, my love. You need to leave. I’ve secured passage for you on board the Mist- it will set sail tonight when you board.”  

        “I can’t leave you!”  Jester pulls herself closer to her mother.  

        “You can’t stay here, not now.”  Marion holds her face, wiping tears from her daughter’s eyes.  “Someday, you can come back to me. Someday, you will come back to me.”  

        “I swear I will, Mama.  I’ll come back to you.”

 

_Jester of House Lavorre of Nicodranus of the Menagerie Coast sets foot on the deck of the Mist, she rests her head on the edge of the ship as it sets sail.  From the coast, the glow from a long-lost lighthouse tower blinks softly until too far for her to see it once more. Slowly, surely, a handful of intertwining destinies begins to meet._

 

        “Jester, right?”  A voice asks softly.  “I’m Beau.”

        “Nice to meet you, Beau.”  Jester scratches her nail into the soft wood of the railing.  The lights of Nicodranus have long since vanished on the horizon, but she can’t seem to tear her eyes away.  

        “Your mom says you’re, uh, a decent healer?”  

        “Yes, I can do some little things.”  Absentmindedly, Jester’s pointed nail has drawn a dick into the rail.  

        “Great, maybe you can help Cad out…”  Beau stands, awkwardly. “You should get some sleep, it’s late.”

        “Yeah, in a moment.  Goodnight, Beau.”

 

_When alone on the deck, Jester, cleric of the unknown god, began to pray, a prayer said by many of my kind._

_Traveller, take me home safe_

_Traveller, lead me far,_

_Traveller, take me home safe._

 

“Traveller, I don’t want to leave!”  She shouts to the sea.

"You needed to, Jester.  It wasn’t safe for you there.”

“I know.”  She sets her head on the rail.  

“You’ll be back.  For now, rest…”

 

_She falls asleep with her cheek pressed to the wood of the ship, her body turned to her homeland._

 

        “Oh fuck.”  Jester rubs her neck, sore from sleeping on the deck.  

        “You know we have beds, ja?”  A man offers her his hand. She takes it, pulling herself to her feet.  

        “Do you have baths?  Cause, no offense, I know you’re on the sea, but you smell Like Really bad.  Way worse than Beau, and she looks like a sailor.”

        “Nice to meet you.  We do not have baths.”  

 

_They are all heroes of their own accord._

_This is not their story as much as it is hers._

 

        “Hold still, would you Molly?”  Jester hears voices as she wanders below deck looking for her bunk.  She pushes a door open with a creak.

        “Ahh.”  A purple tiefling sits on a table as a larger humanoid unlike anyone Jester has ever seen applies cloths to his neck.  “Well, hello there.”

        “You’re all good.  Give that spot a break, alright?”  

        “Thanks, Cad.”  The tiefling- Molly, pulls his shirt over his head.  “You must be Jester. I’m Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends.”  

        “Nice to meet you, Mollymauk.”  She smiles. “Uh, Beau didn’t tell me where I was sleeping?  Last night?”

        “She’s a little forgetful.”  The larger humanoid, covered in fine grey fur, wipes his hands.  “I’ll show you the way. Caduceus Clay, by the way. You’re rooming with Beau, she’s really fun when you catch her in a good mood.”  

        Caduceus knocks on a door in the hall.  

        “It’s open,”  Beau shouts.

        “Hi Beau, Jester got a little lost but she’s here now.”  He pushes open the door to the cozy cabin, with a bunk bed against one wall, and a pair of chairs, chest of drawers, and desk table against the other.  A round port window shining light into the room.

        “Oh good, you met Caduceus.”   Beau sets down a book and stands from her seat.  “Mister Clay here is doing double duty as our surgeon and cook, so he can always use a second set of hands if you wouldn’t mind helping him out with the little injuries that show up.”  

        “Sure!”  Jester sets down her bag.  

 

_The heroes are named as such:_

_Beauregard, of the Cobalt Soul, whose knowledge would grow unparalleled, whose hands could touch imperceivable things, from ghosts to wisdom to truth itself._

_Caleb Widoghast, mage of intellect and power the likes of which has not been seen and will not be seen again._

_Nott, bravest of her kind, rogue mystique._

_Mollymauk Tealeaf, the survivor of wounds that would make mortal men fall, defeater of a thousand deaths._

_Caduceus Clay, of the Wildmother, priest of the Blooming Grove Crypt._

_Yasha, of the Wilds of Xjorhas, Orphanmaker favored of Kord._

_And now Jester, seeker of her new fortune._


	2. Part Two: The Storm

_ The Mist was full of valiant heroes, fearless against any challenge.  As they entered the end of the first week of their journey, a challenge approached them.   _

 

“Fuck!”  Beau shouts.  “We’re entering a storm, Yasha!”  

Storm wasn’t the right way to describe it, Jester thinks.  Already, the wind was picking up. 

“Get below deck, Jester.”  Molly ties down a rope. “This is no place for you to be right now.”

She wasn’t exactly a member of the crew.  Her mother had paid for her to be here, making her a passenger worth more than any amount of cargo the Mist could carry.  Jester turned to go below deck. Something makes her stop- the intuitive feeling as though something is about to happen, something more than just a shaky afternoon.  Though she doesn’t know why, she secures her breastplate armor to herself, and makes sure her paintbrush is still tied firmly to her leather belt.

 

_ Indeed, it was a storm of legend, the likes of which have not been seen for many years now.   _

_ Waves began to swirl around the hull of the Mist.  Clouds gathered overhead, darkening the noon sky to almost pitch blackness.  The ship rocks, navigating waves large enough to swallow cities whole.  _

 

Queasy, Jester clings to the doorframe.  She looks out at the pitching sea. 

“Traveller, are you there?”

 

_ The crew scuttles along the deck, securing sails and shouting over the heightening gale.  Lightning flashes on the horizon, illuminating the wildness of the seas for just a moment.  A peal of roaring thunder causes the very seas to shake.  _

_ Underneath all this, under all the chaos and the storm and the violent waves, is a song.   _

 

Jester’s hallucinating.  That’s the only way to explain any of this.  And yet. She hears...

 

_ It’s a soft lullaby, one that whispers to Jester of Lavvore.   _

_ It sounds like her mother.  _

 

_ Oh, my Sapphire of the Sea, _

_ Worth more to me than any silver or gold, _

_ You will always come back to me, _

_ Always come back to me.   _

 

She cries out.  Jester runs back onto the deck, clinging to ropes determined to yank themselves from her hands.  Burned from friction and soaking wet from the relentless storm, Jester shouts. 

“Mama?!” 

The storm is her only reply and the continuation of the music.  

 

_ It is a violent battle cry, it is a smooth and persistent sound.  It is a sea shanty, it is musical and lyrical one moment and a chanting dirge the next.  It is new and ancient at the same time, calling to all who hear.  _

 

_ It’s hypnotizing.   _

_   
_ _ Jester of Lavorre stands on the pitching deck.  She listens to the song. She moves closer and closer to the rail, listening to the overlapping songs.  _

_ She braces herself against the rail as she hears it louder and louder, the melody mixing with the very drops of rain, the punishing flurry of hail, the spray of the sea….  _

_ It comes to a furious climax. _

 

“JESTER!”  Beau shouts from the other side of the deck.  “GET BACK!”

 

_ Jester of Lavorre lets go of the rail.   _

 

_ She falls.   _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun... the story picks up again next week! 
> 
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on the hellsite Tumblr)


	3. The Fall

_ Jester struck the sea with great force, the frightening cold removing all breath from her lungs.  Her eyes burned from the salt, and for a moment, she only saw a vast, dark sea enveloping her, color deep and intimidating as pitch.  Her white petticoats plumed around her like seafoam, billowing like the million tendrils of a jellyfish. She began to realize she was sinking.   _

 

“SHIT,”  Jester tried to shout, but no noise, only bubbles came from her mouth.  She began to panic. Her clothing, soaking wet, was only serving to pull her deeper.    

 

_ With a last thrust, she crested the sea, her face now vulnerable to the torrent of wind and rain assaulting the surface. How strange, thought she, that more calm could be found in the darkest depths of the sea than the waves above that had seemed so gentle mere hours ago.  Jester of Lavorre had time for one last breath before a wave swallowed her completely, once more surrendering her to the calm of the sea. She began to pray. _

 

“Oh fuck, Traveller.”  

This wasn’t supposed to happen- was it?  The sea was chilling her to the bone, and she shook as she struggled back to the surface.  

Think, Jester!  

 

_ Again she crested, pushing cloth away from her arms and face, searching for any sign of the Mist.  To her horror, the ship had vanished in the storm, leaving her to the mercy of the ocean and winds.   _ _  
_ _ Far off, almost at the horizon, a warm yellow light rests at the surface.  The light performs a dance all of its own, diving below the tumultuous waves before breaking the surface and sailing through the sky for a moment before returning to the sea.  She called to it. _

 

“Hello?  Is anyone there?”  Jester took another mouthful of salt water as a wave slapped her in the face.  

 

_ Again she heard the lullaby and drew herself closer to the sound of her mother’s voice.  The ocean itself drew her closer to that glow, yellow and orange like burning coal, but producing no heat through the chill of the ocean. _

__

She knew it wasn’t her mama.  But it sounded so much like her.  The voice ran through her like a hot coal, burning her with her deep desires to feel her mother’s embrace again, to hear her whisper everything would be okay, to smell her perfume and watch her dance.  It was that longing that drove her here- that desire that could be the very thing that kills her. 

“Oh, mama.  I’m sorry for what I’ve done!”  She cries out. “Traveler, don’t let me die here.”

Like a miracle, he responds. 

_ A figure took shape before her, parting the mist and wind and rain, of the upper half of a man sculpted of living stone, cut thin but muscular, like some long-lost, long-forgotten god of the sea.  His skin was like jade from the south, curved, tusk-like teeth like marble from the east, eyes like amber from the west, hair dark as obsidian from the north. _

 

He was, yes, very hot, like the better half of men who came to the Lavish Chateau, or the heroes of her paperback romance novels her mama bought her.   But her mind wasn’t really focused on the general aesthetic pleasure of the man before her, instead thinking about how best to not die.

 

_ From his mouth came the song and from the waist, he had no legs, but a smooth tail, like that of a fish:  silver scales with a brown sheen, translucent scales running the length of the meters long tail.  _

_ A wave larger than those prior rose above the two as they stared at each other, and descended upon them with a roar.   _

_ Their eye contact was unbroken- as Jester struggled against the current, as the man swam to her, as her lungs ran out of air, and her eyes dotted with black as she began to lose consciousness, and as the fish-man pushed a breath into her lungs with lips coated with salt.  His hand took hers as she began to drown again, pulling her somewhere unknown.  _

 

She wasn’t sure if this was the best idea.  But she was running out of oxygen and movement felt better than staying in one place.  

 

_ Come with me, he says through the song of the sea, I’ll take you to a place unlike any you’ve ever seen.   _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, she's late this week! (and a little shorter, too). But now our romantic leads have met- how will they get along? Can you tell this is like, 100% the narrator's OTP? What adventures are in store for Jester of Lavorre? 
> 
> XOXO,  
> Just


	4. The Bones

_ Jester of Lavvore awoke in a cove, her head covered from the sun by a cavernous room hewn from raw marble.  Across from her sat the Man of the Sea, resting on a great rough stone, tail shining from the light streaming in from a sky-light.  Slowly, she spoke: questions of where she was. _

 

“Where am I?”  Jester sits up slowly, brushing dried sand off of her.  “And who are you?” 

(Are you single?  Her heart sighed. No, Jester- focus on the danger at hand.)

 

_ “They call it the Isle of Bones,”  The Man of the Seas gestured to the ground of the cove, covered with fragments of true white bones.  “And I? I am the Keeper of the Bones.” _

 

“You can call me Fjord.”  

“I’m Jester.”  She touched her lips where she remembered his being just moments ago, she could still taste the salt and feel the warmth of his breath in her lungs. He might be part fish, but he was warm to the touch.  “Thank you. For saving me back there.” 

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”  Fjord rolled onto his belly, his magnificent tail splashing a little water from a pool at the bottom of the cove.  “So, Jester. What brings you to the middle of the sea?” 

“Can’t be home at the moment.”  Jester’s gut instinct told her to keep her answers short and sweet, so she did.  “Can you bring me back to where I was? I’m looking for a ship at the moment.” 

 

_ Jester held her head high, despite the fearsome nature of the title before her.  Boldly, she asked for a favor- to return her to her ship.  _

_ “What can you give in exchange?”  _ _ The Man of the Seas asked her in return. _

 

What can I give? She thought.  Everything of hers was soaking wet or on the ship.  She had her paintbrush, the magic one her mama gave her, but she wasn’t willing to give that up.  Think fast, Jester–

 

_ “A story.  I can give you a story, unlike one you’ve heard before.”   _

 

“On the condition, you don’t eat me and add me to your bones.”  

Fjord laughs.   “I won’t eat you.”  

 

_ Holding her head high, Jester stood, hand resting atop her holy symbol.  “A story in exchange for my life?” _

_ “Tell the story first.” _

_ See, my King, I stand in the place Jester stood once- therefore the two of us begin to weave a wondrous tale to save our skins, hers, unfortunately, lost to time; mine, fortunately, preserved for millennia to come.   _

 

“Have you heard of the Ruby of the Sea?  Well, I’m sure you, a man of the sea, have heard of her, at least a little.”  Jester clears her throat and continues. “She’s like, the most gorgeous woman ever.  Her skin is scarlet red and her voice is soft and sultry at the same time. With a single murmur, she can make a grown man cry- maybe she’s part siren, like you!”

“The Ruby is like, the best lay ever, for any man or woman or person.  And she’s had many lovers, but only one love- before me, of course. He was a great man, and tall and handsome (a little like you, I think).  He promised her the world but broke his promise. They were engaged to be wed until he fled, leaving her alone and pregnant- with me.” 

“Anyway.  I’m looking for him, a little.  But I also don’t know what to expect because I kinda think he’s a dick.”  

 

_ Her tale cracked the stone face of the siren and thus won her life from the beast; we shall see the effect of my story soon enough.    _

 

He laughs.  “Alright, I’m tempted to help you.” 

“What about you?”  She feels bold as she walks closer to him, sitting on the edge of the stone he sits upon.  

 

_ “I have another request, O Man of the Seas- that you should share your story with me.  In return, I will share my trials with thee.” _

_ An accord was met, and the Man of the Sea spake, a most tragic tale of loss and love and the seas.   _

_ “I once heard the call of the sea. It soon became all to me- mother, sister, lover, betrayer all in one.  She welcomed me like a mother, teased me like a sister, played like a lover and stunned me with her beauty, and swallowed me whole when I, too, encountered a storm.  The last Keeper of the Bones pulled me from the wreck, and I took her burden, that of siren-hood from her, allowing that dear sea-sister of mine rest amongst these lovely bones.”   _

 

“I was a sailor,”  He said plainly. “We had the misfortune of running into a storm, and it tore us apart.  The last Bonekeep found me, half dead, and brought me here. In thanks for my life, I became a Siren, allowing her to finally die.  She’d kept the Isle of Bones for centuries, I suppose. She was glad to die.”

 

_ He parted the remnants of a tattered shirt from his shoulders.  In the middle of his chest, pressed against his ribs, stood a yellow gemstone, like an eye, peering away from his chest.   _

_ “This is the price I pay- for I owe my life to a monster of the deep.”  _

__

“It’s kinda cool.  I can do some magic with it.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s probably evil. Like, most likely probably. But, if he finds you here, he’ll either kill you or turn you into a Siren as well.  So. I was thinking- you look like the heroic type, do you want to kill it with me?”

 

_ “You are bound to this place?  How tragic, Man of the Seas! Can I aid you, slaughter this beast and set you free?  Return you to your original form?”  _

_ “Alas, the monster is powerful!  We may just perish, lovely Jester.”   _

_ “I fear no beast, no monster, no man with my god at my right hand.  Let us free you from this curse.” _

 

“It’d probably get rid of the curse, right?”  She looks at the stone embedded into his chest.  And a little lower, at his (not jacked but still toned) torso.  “Doesn’t sound like the hardest thing in the world.”

“Yeah, should just take an afternoon?  Then we can find your boat again.” 

“It’s a deal.”  She shakes his hand.  His skin isn’t slimy as she thought it would be, feeling like any other skin.  

 

_ “You still owe me your story, Lady of the Land.”   _

_ “Later, Man of the Sea.” _

 

“After we survive.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the death of the author is beginning: Tech Week is behind us, show this week, finals on the horizon... I'll be doing my best to update again next weekend! Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope)

**Author's Note:**

> The tale continues next Sunday! Until then, fare thee well! (Please let me know if the formatting of this actually works there's a lot of shit going on with this fic that needs a visual element.)
> 
> XOXO,  
> Just (@zoetriestobecoolbutnope on Tumblr)


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